The Darkness Flame
by Damocles32
Summary: Chapter 8: Isolate and Contain. Sorry about the long wait. I didn't like this chapter so much, but, I dunno. shrugs Keep those reviews coming. This story Will get better soon, I promise.
1. Foundation

The Darkness Flame             Lieutenant Treaka shifted her weight as she continued to monitor the ships vital functions. This wasn't really the direction she had expected her life to take after graduating the Irken Academy. She had to admit, however, that at first a Strike Runner had seemed like the perfect ship. Low ranking enough to get down and dirty during combat, but High enough that the Tallest wouldn't throw it thoughtlessly into the meat grinder. Unfortunately, this particular ship had been designated a  "Deep Scout". That meant scouring the galaxy for any miserable chunks of filth that might prove suitable for an Irken invasion. All of it happening millions of miles from the armada and millions of miles from any real action. 

                Treaka sighed as she slipped the electronic clipboard into her Pak. Might as well check up on the fuel ducts. Seemed like those things always needed maintenance. 

She began the long march down towards section E-12, passing a few of her fellow Engineers running system scans or repairing the general wear and tear that seemed to constantly plague deep scouts, as well as the occasional crew hand, wandering around on break or leave, but those were rare this far into the workings of the Majestic. 

            As she approached the sliding blast door that led into the main fuel hold, an intercom placed against the upper corner of the hallway began to relay a live message from Captain Jarka.

            "This is your captain speaking. We have just received a class five emergency assignment direct from the Tallest." All action on the ship stopped. A direct order? From the Tallest? Every antenna strained to hear the command.  

            "There's been a containment failure."

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            Zim walked down the street, an extra spring in his step. Even the fact that he would soon be imprisoned for the remainder of the day in that horrid Earth Skool couldn't lower his spirits. The latest plan was going perfectly, and, unless that stupid Dib monkey did something to ruin it, Earth would be his in a matter of days. The sun glowed brightly, basking the planet in its warmth and adding to Zim's uncharacteristically cheerful demeanor. As he passed a large, particularly friendly looking oak tree, an Earth bird began to sing. Zim rather disliked the horrible screeching, but the Humans regarded it as a sign of good fortune, and since he was on Earth, Zim assumed it would hold true for him as well. Even as he rounded the corner towards the Skool building, Zim failed to notice the dark figure perched delicately in that very same tree.

            Dib lowered the binoculars as Zim disappeared from view.

            "I know he's up to something…" Dib muttered under his breath. 

            Dib slipped the binoculars into one of the many pockets adorning his trench coat, grabbed a branch, and swung gracefully out of the tree. He took off running as soon as his feet touched the ground, knowing he would have to catch up to Zim before Skool. He had been trailing the alien for three days, and had so far found no clues to reveal the nature of the space demon's nefarious scheme. That left Dib with two options, and right now he was willing to try the less dangerous of the two.

            Zim stopped a few blocks from the school as his raven-haired nemesis jumped in front of him, panting slightly from the run.

            "Out of my way, Earth-Stink." 

            "Not until you tell me what your planning, Zim!"

            Zim smiled in mock sincerity.

            "Why Dib, how ever could you think I'd be planning something?"

            It took Dib several moments to figure out whether Zim was being sarcastic or was just a horrible liar. Deciding it didn't really matter, Dib pressed the assault.   

            "I know you're up to something, Zim."

            Zim merely rolled his eyes, letting out a dismissive grunt. Dib knew he'd have to change tactics before he lost Zim's attention.

            "Fine. Don't tell me." Dib crossed his arms and turned slightly away. 

"Your stupid plans never work anyway."

            Zim's expression hardened and his eyes narrowed at Dib, the left one twitching somewhat. He glared daggers into the human for a few moments, before screaming loud enough for most of the city to hear.

            "IT IS NOT A STUPID PLAN!"

            "Ha! So you are up to something! Give it up, Zim, you'll never conquer the human race!"

            The alien let out low growl, shoving Dib to the side and stomping towards the Skool, his once cheerful mood a dark and squalid memory.  


	2. Unleashed

Hey there, thanks for reading this! Now, if you're really friendly, you'll give me a review! ^_^ Shout-outs to: 

DibMagician

            Thanks for the review; they're like food to me, you know.

  
Damocles feel hungry… Damocles need more food.

ShangHai

            My Beta Reader! Thanks for the input! Hope you like the (semi) modified chapter!

Well, that's it. Hopefully there'll be more next chapter. Ah, well. Onto the story!

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Chapter Two: Unleashed

            The Skool day had passed rather uneventfully. Zim remained remarkably silent, substituting his usually obnoxious ranting for a malevolent glare directed specifically at Dib. The ranting, however, continued unabated inside his head. Stupid DIB. Stupid, Bigheaded, Smelly, Rotten, Earthen Stink… uh… HEAD. Thinks my plans are stupid, does he? Well, he'll see. He'll see soon enough. Stupid Dib. I can't wait to see his face when I unleash my creation and the pathetic stink monkey is forced to watch his planet burn… and it will burn… Oh, the brilliant glow it shall make as burns! Zim began to feel slightly better.

            After Skool, Dib decided to leave Zim be, for now, anyway. At the very least, Plan A had half worked. He had confirmed that Zim was, in fact, up to something. Now the only thing to do was proceed with Plan B: The infiltration of Zim's base, and the thwarting of his latest scheme, whatever it was. Gaz approached him from behind, her face buried in a large book.

            "Are you going home, or are you just going to stand there all day?"

            "No time to stand around, Gaz." Dib lowered his voice, obviously trying to sound more like the heroic savior he was.

            "I've got to save the world." Dib charged off towards home, his mind already filling with excitement at the thought of all the new equipment he'd get to test out.

            "Whatever." Gaz said, a slight scorn in her tone, before walking off towards home, face never once looking up from her book.

            Dib rushed around his room. Pulling things off the wall, from the closet, out of his dresser, and throwing it all in a rapidly growing pile in the center of his bedroom.

            "I'll need this… and this… and this… and OH! Therm-Optic Camo!" 

            Dib tossed the blue-green vest into the pile, apparently oblivious to the fact that no human could possibly carry the four hundred and seventeen pounds of equipment he had selected. With most of his room ripped apart and thrown into the pile, a satisfied smile crossed Dibs face. Then, slowly, the smile began to falter as reality set in. With a defeated sigh, he began to pick the essentials out of his pile of mail order techno junk.

            In a matter of minutes, Dib had managed to stuff as much as he could onto his person. Laser cutters, thermo goggles, laptop, headset, throwing stars, sticky cameras, glue bombs, sleep cuffs, water pistol, and, under his trench coat, the Therm-Optic Camo. 

Dib launched himself down the stairs and out the door, paying no mind to Gaz, who was sitting on the sofa playing her Game Slave II.

            "Freak." Gaz muttered, not looking up from her game.

            Zim scanned over the information on the monitor, cycling quickly between submenus and progress charts in an attempt to be as up-to-date as possible on his latest project. It was going exactly as he planned. Something rather unusual for Zim. In a few days, and with a little luck (something Zim was positive the fates owed him), the experiment would be ready, and humanity would be powerless to stop it. Once he ruled the Earth, the Dib Human would pay dearly for his transgressions. Dearly.

            Dib crouched behind a large piece of alien machinery, watching the Irken work. The Therm-Optic Camo had been invaluable in getting this deep into Zim's base, but the batteries were almost out, and the second they went down he might as well have been carrying neon sign that said "Here I Am.". Dib concentrated on the monitor, unable to make out the Irken characters that danced across the screen. This wasn't good. Dib ducked back behind his cover. How was he supposed to uncover Zim's plot if he couldn't even read the alien's writing? It could have said right on that monitor exactly what it was Zim was up to, and Dib wouldn't have known. He'd have to hack into the system, download the file to his laptop, then take it home and try to figure it out. At the very least he could delete the thing, and maybe set the Invader's schedule back a bit. No… Zim probably had countless back up copies. Besides, he'd never be able to hack into anything with Zim standing right there. Dib poked his head cautiously out from behind the metallic construct to check on Zim, but the Irken wasn't there.

            "Are you really that eager to find out what I'm doing?"

            Dib whirled around, eyes quickly setting on the source of the voice.

            Zim stood atop a circular platform, hovering above a large, steel door. His voice was magnified by the computer's speaker system, carrying it to the far corners of the lab.

            "Well then, Dib, I guess you'll finally get what you want. I admit it's not yet ready to conquer the entire human race, but it's more than strong enough to destroy one measly worm-baby. Have fun, Dib. I hope you enjoy being ripped apart. GIR!"

            A voice echoed from some far off corner of the lab.

            "Yeeeeeessss?"

            Zim glared at Dib, a malevolent smile brewing on his face.

            "Release the Manslayer." 

            GIR trudged obediently towards the command console, eyeing a large red button clearly labeled "Cage Release". GIR released a squeal of joy before slamming his head down onto the button.

            Sirens blared and red lights flashed as the large steel door began to groan slowly upward, a small amount of smoke escaping through the blackness behind it. Dib stood frozen to the spot, a mere thirty feet from the opening. Two menacing green eyes could be seen in the blackness revealed by the ever-rising door. GIR sat on the command console, a large bag of popcorn in his hands. 

"I love this show." The robot said in a calm, singsong voice. 

With a loud clang, the door was at last fully opened, and Zim's creation, the creature destined to destroy all mankind and ravage the world from whence they came, stepped into the light.


	3. Will of the Tallest

Hello all, thanks for reading my fic. I'm glad you guys like it so far, and if you have any questions or comments, as always, feel free to review. I'd do a shout out, but I've got so many reviews that it would take up half the page or more. So a super special thanks to all who reviewed. You all make me so… happy. One quick thanks to my Beta Reader, (soon to be Beta Reader_s_) Shang Hai. Also, a disclaimer since I seem to have forgotten it earlier. I do Not own invader Zim. Thank you. Also, would you guys like author notes at the beginning or end of a chapter? Well, I hope you like.

Chapter 3: Will of the Tallest

            Jarka squinted as he read the continuously scrolling text, oblivious to the world around him. It had to be somewhere. The stupid ship had to be somewhere. The distress call had come from within this star system, and a research vessel couldn't travel that far, especially if there really had been a containment failure. So where was it? Jarka sighed, pulling back from the screen. This wasn't going to look good on his report. He settled down into his chair, a look of despair on his face. What if they never found it? What was he going to tell the Tallest? Jarka sighed, wallowing in self-despair. In actuality, system scans took several hours to complete, and even though they had already scanned the majority of this solar system and turned up nothing, there was still a lot of space left to cover. Jarka, however, had never really been able to see the positive side of things, always preparing for and fully expecting the worst. In truth, that quality helped him to ascend to his current rank. If worse comes to worse, better to have a leader who was prepared for it, after all.

            Jarka's spirit brightened as a young technician turned around to address him.

            "Sir, we've just picked up a high concentration of cybernetic activity on the third planet. Looks Irken."

            The technician turned back to his station and began to study the readouts in greater detail.

            "Yes… definitely Irken."

            Jarka straightened in his chair, a great burden lifted from his shoulders.

            "The Research Ship."

            The technician hesitated a bit before turning around to face his Captain.

            "I… I don't think so. The schematics don't match up. In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say it was a base."

            Jarka raised an invisible eyebrow, his mouth frowning in confusion.

            "A base? What would an Irken base to be doing way out here?"

            The technician hesitated again, still facing Jarka. He had an idea of what it might be, but he didn't like it. Didn't like what it would mean to the mission, and didn't like the way Jarka might take it.

            "You… uh… you don't think that…it could be… you know… _him_?"

            Jarka caught what his subordinate was hinting at and his eyes narrowed as realization entered his mind. His lips hissed out only a single, almost inaudible word.

            "Zim."

            Red threw another handful of nachos into his mouth, crunching them noisily. The incessant chomping was the only sound echoing out of the sitting room, and it was beginning to greatly fray Purple's nerves. Several minutes passed with no end to the crunching, chewing, slurping of Red's everlasting supply of snack foods. His sanity breaking, Purple whirled around, screaming at his co-ruler.

            "COULD YOU STOP FOR ONE FREAKING SECOND?!"

            Red stared at Purple in shock, a handful of nachos frozen halfway to his open mouth. Slowly, Red placed the nachos back in their deli basket, his eyes never looking away from Purple's. For several seconds, Red simply stood quietly, holding his nachos, a hurt expression on his face.

            Purple, feeling only slightly sorry for yelling at his friend, turned back towards the window.

            "There, was that so hard? Now we should be able to enjoy some peace and-"

            Purple was cut short by the hideous squelch made by the nacho container as it connected with its target and now rested, overturned, on his head. Thick, melted cheese running down his face, he turned slowly around, his eyes shifting into violet slits emanating a piercing hatred. Red stood on the far side of the room, pointing and laughing for all he was worth. Purple was shaking with rage, too overwhelmed to move or even think coherently. Only one thought coursed through his brain.

Kill Red.

            The scene in the break room was interrupted as the large monitor on the far wall sprang to life, revealing the face of the Massive's Chief Communications Officer. He glanced once at Purple, most of his face now drenched with cheese, and once at Red, still laughing his ass off.

            "Maybe… I should… uh… call back later."

            Red shook his head, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

            "No, no. It's fine, it's fine. What is it you wanted?"

            "We have an incoming transmission from the Majestic. Shall I put them through?"

            "Of course. Right away."

            The face of the CCO faded as the screen became static, bending and hissing noisily for several seconds before snapping back into focus to reveal the face of Captain Jarka. Red, never one for small talk, succeeded in getting right to the point.

            "What have you found, Jarka? Believe me, it had better be good."

            "We… have located EX-05."

            "Excellent. What about the others?"

            "No sign of them yet, but we've still got a lot of ground to cover."

            "Good… good. How is 05?"

            "Well…"

            "That better be a good 'Well…'"

            "I said we found him. Not that we had him."

            "So get him. What's the problem?"

            "We last tracked his beacon to a… certain city… a city one Earth… a city that contains an Irken base… an Invader base."

            Red's eyes widened with comprehension.

            "Son of a Bantoid…"  

            "What… should we do?"

            Red furled his brow in concentration, rubbing his forehead with his right hand while muttering incoherent thoughts and ideas. Finally, he looked up at Jarka, and gave the young Captain his orders. 

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            The transmission was severed, leaving Jarka staring at an Irken Insignia and the flashing words "Transmission Ended". He turned away, leaving the communications bay and heading for his private quarters. This was big. Very big.

            Red turned away from the screen just in time to see Purple flying through the air, knife in hand.

And that's it for tonight. Sorry about the lack of Zimmyness, but don't worry, he'll be back next chapter. (If any of you are still reading by then ^_^)


	4. Cat & Mouse

Chapter 4: Cat and Mouse

            It was an Irken. That was the first thing Dib thought when he saw Zim's "Manslayer". It wore a uniform similar to Zim's save for the color. In place of Zim's pink (that the alien constantly insisted was red) was dull gunmetal. The monster stood maybe three inches taller than Zim. Other than that, the two could have been twins, at least in Dib's eyes. Dib realized a few seconds later that there was one other difference. The eyes. Not the color, so much, but what was in them. Zim's were clearly alive, burning with life and energy. Even if that energy was directed at destroying everything Dib held dear. But these eyes seemed… dead. There was no other word Dib could find to describe them. They were like two bottomless pits you could fall into. If eyes were truly the window to the soul…

            Dib was cut from his thoughts by Zim's screamed orders.

            "SEIZE HIM! SEIZE THE DIB HUMAN!"

            The Manslayer turned his head to the right, the rest of his body perfectly still. Slowly, his head panned to the left, searching the lab. Once his neck had craned as far left as it would go, it returned to its previous position, staring directly at Dib. The creature opened its mouth, and in a voice that sounded oddly like Zim's robot servant in "Duty" mode, it said

            "Dib-Human is not in the laboratory."

            Both Zim and Dib stood still for several moments; shock overcoming Zim and confusion overcoming Dib. More out of habit than conscious thought, Dib checked his the readout on his Camo. It was flashing a low battery warning. Still on... Dib's glance shot back up to the Manslayer. It was staring right through him. The revelation hit Dib like a cement truck. It was a robot! Or, at least, it was partially a robot. Dib wasn't sure how advanced Irken Bio-Engineering was, but he from what he'd seen of Zim's capabilities, it seemed they would be able to-

            "What are you talking about? He's right _there_!"

            Zim pointed towards the pathetic stink baby, a pained expression on his face. This could not go wrong. He'd put too much work into rebuilding this thing for something to go wrong now. 

            "My sensors detect no human within the base. Would you like me to increase my scanning radius?" The Manslayers reply was cold and monotone. 

            "BUT HE'S RIGHT _THERE_!" Zim waved his outstretched arm to indicate the human filth. Dib realized he'd have to move before his battery ran out. It would have been bad before, but now… he had no data on this… weapon at all. Best thing to do would be a tactical withdrawal until he had time to study the Manslayer and devise a plan of action. There was no telling what it was capable of. It could be equipped with nerve gas, or nuke launchers, or… Hell, the damned thing could travel through time for all Dib knew. 

 Dib flipped backwards onto the machine behind him, landing deftly on one hand.  He used it to launch him further upwards as his left hand caught a line of silver tubing running out from Zim's central computer. Swinging up onto the steel line, he could make out the Irken below, pointing at him and screaming orders at the Manslayer. Dib ran along the upward slanting tube, arms spread out to help him balance. Below him, the Manslayer had begun to advance in Dib's general direction, apparently taking Zim's word that there was, indeed, an enemy over there. Dib dropped down from the tubing and onto a mechanical column of some kind.

            "There! He's on top of the Memory Banks!"

            Dib looked down and saw the Manslayer at the very base of the cylindrical construct, glaring up at him. Dib checked the battery on his Camo.

            It had switch to "Very, very low".

            Slowly, the Manslayer placed two hands on the towering memory bank, his claw like fingers cutting easily into the steel. With a single upward thrust from his right leg, he began crawling swiftly up the side, eyes still glaring into a Dib he supposedly could not see.

Dib wasn't sure what he expected to happen next, but it certainly wasn't this. It was like something out of Spider-Man. Or, more accurately, _Aliens_. Dib leapt off of the first memory bank and onto the second out of a group of six that lined the wall. He deftly jumped a second gap, landing on the third bank. He swiveled back to check on the progress of the robot.

It wasn't there.

In panic, Dib twisted around to see the Manslayer standing right in front of him, dead, empty eyes piercing into his own. Dib glanced down at the battery level for his stealth camo.

It was dead.


	5. Pieces

Authors Note:

Hello there!

I'd just like to take this time to thank you for reading this pile of non-sequential words and phrases that I call a story. 

I've decided to start a little contest. I've placed a reference inside Chapter 6 (Yes, it's written already) to a book I just finished reading, and if you can find it and what book it's referring too, I'll put you in the story as a supporting character! Just tell me your character's name and gender along with your answer for the mystery reference, and you're in! ^_^

If you can't find the Easter Egg but want to be in the story anyway, just give me your character's name and gender, and you'll be placed in a magic hat to be pulled out when there's an opening.

            And please, Read and Review! I need reviews! Please! 

Even if you don't like it, let me know. After all, I can't improve anything if I don't know what's wrong. ^_^

So, I'll stop blabbing now and let you read the story, since that's probably what you came here to do. 

Unless you just like Author Notes… 

This is a long one at nearly 2000 words, so grab a soda and hunker down. ^_^

Anyway, on with the show!

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Chapter 5: Pieces 

            Black boots slammed down, one after the other, in a mad dash through one of a million identical corridors on the Massive. Arriving at their destination, the boots squealed to a halt, leaving the Irken standing outside an open doorway that looked into the security center, where the Massive's Chief of Security was reading last months issue of _Irk Today_, his feet resting on a command consol.

            "Farle! Farle, they're fighting again!"

            Farle turned his head slowly, appraising the Irken standing in the doorway. He casually flipped a page.

            "Yeah? So?"

            The messenger appeared exasperated. 

            "_So_? So they're going to kill each other! Get a security squad down there to break them up! We don't have much time!"

            Farle sighed. 

            "They're both wearing almost a foot of solid Terchon power armor. What are they possibly going to do to each other? They'll punch themselves out in a couple of days."

            The news bearer grew increasingly exasperated, her voice reaching what resembled a shriek. 

            "SO YOU'RE JUST GOING TO SIT THERE!?"

            Farle turned back to his reading.

            "Look, the second we burst in there, Red's going to order us to kill Purple. That will give Purple the same idea, and he'll tell us to kill Red. Since they're both the exact same height and both of the exact same power, we won't be able follow either of their commands. So we'll just stand around, stupid looks splattered on our faces until the Tallest forget all about killing each other and start killing us for incompetence."

            The female Irken charged out of the room and down the hall. If Farle wasn't going to help her, She'd just have to break them up herself.

            Farle lazily turned a page, revealing another article on how to please the Tallest.

            "Your funeral."

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            Jarka walked down the hallway towards the twin sliding doors of the cafeteria. He had a few minutes before they reached their target, and experience told him you should never face a potentially dangerous situation on an empty stomach. The doors slid apart, creating a mechanical "whoosh" that, for some reason, Jarka found remarkably soothing. The general murmur of the cafeteria died as he entered the room. Irkens stood and began to salute. Jarka gave them all a small smile and returned the salute. 

            Jarka stepped into the buffet line, which instantly disintegrated to form two lines of Irkens on either side of him. He had tried for months to stop this, but they continued the practice, either out of habit or out of fear. Eventually, Jarka stopped trying. He would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy being first in line. Jarka grabbed his tray, filled with the usual dinner, Fried Slarterbus Legs, an energy bar, and a can of Slurge Cola. 

            Jarka loved Slarterbus Legs.

            Jarka sat down at an empty table. He could have picked a livelier one, but there really wasn't much point. As soon as he sat down, it would have gone completely silent. 

It wasn't that the crew didn't like him. In fact, Jarka was one of the best captain's most of them had ever had. But he was still the captain, and there were certain things you just didn't talk about in front of your captain. It was just part of the rules.

            "Where you been, good buddy? Pulling our asses out of the fire again?"

            Of course, not everyone is going to obey the rules.

            Jarka looked up and smiled as Lid slid into the seat across from him.

            "Maybe you'd know if you ever got off yours."

            Lid threw his hands up defensively as the general murmur of the cafeteria returned.

            "Hey, You've got your job, I've got mine."       

            Jarka lifted a large leg off his tray.

            "Slarterbus?"

            "No, I'm good. I had first shift today."

            Jarka shrugged and began moving the leg into his mouth.

            "Your loss."

            "Hey, I know, I know. You still on for Slantra next week?"

            "Like taking sugar from a smeet."

            "Believe me, they know. I had to threaten janitorial duty just to round up a team to play you."

            Jarka smiled. He was the worst Slantra player on this side of the galaxy. Maybe both. A small light started blinking on the side of Lid's Pak. A mechanical arm slid out and brought a small monitor up to the Computer Specialist's face. Lid studied it for several seconds before the arm slid back into his Pak.

            "Damn. Some idiot blew a transistor on the navi-com. Guess I'll have to leave you to your succulent feast." Lid began to stand up, but was stopped by a gesture from his friend.

            "Forget it. I'll have someone else deal with it. I need you right here."

            Lid slid back down, his interest piqued. 

            "For what?"

            Jarka dropped another bone onto his plate as he popped open the Slurge.

            "Top Secret. I'll brief you on the bridge."

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            Dib lay spread-eagle on a metallic table, his wrists and ankles bound by thick metal bands. A large, nasty looking weapon suspended by innumerable cords and cables hung above him, emitting a small laser beam onto the foot of the table. It was moving slowly upwards towards Dib's more sensitive areas, leaving a clean cut in the steal behind it. Zim stood next to him, stroking GIR, who lay peaceably in Zim's arms, tongue lolling out of his green doggy costume. The Manslayer stood silently behind the two of them.

            "You'll never get away with this, Zim!"

            Zim began to shake his head.

            "Poor, pathetic human. I already have. If mankind's greatest hero was unable to stop my invention operating on only a small fraction of its true power, what chance does the rest of humanity have?"

            Dib was about to say something, when Zim cut him off.

            "I have no time for this. We must prepare for the subjugation of Earth. Come, Manslayer. Let us leave Dib alone and unguarded, awaiting his unnecessarily slow doom as we strategize!"  

            Zim marched off into the darker recesses of the lab. The Manslayer looked at Zim, then at Dib, then back at Zim. It looked like it was about to say something, but apparently thought better of it, and followed Zim into the darkness.

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            Jarka stood next to the captain's chair, his best friend beside him. Various Irkens manned the control stations around them, oblivious to the pair. 

            "So, that's the plan. Any questions?"

            "Is that all we know?"

            "The Tallest were very reluctant to reveal any information concerning Project Darkness Flame. I was lucky to get what I did."

            Lid frowned. He would have liked a better understanding of the technology he'd be dealing with. He would have to blunder his way around the systems by trial and error, and on a weapons platform that could have dangerous consequences.

            "We need you on this, Lid."

            Jarka was right. If anyone onboard could do it, it would be him. He looked his lifelong friend in the eye.

            "Alright, Jarka. I'll try."

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            The door to the Tallest's sitting room slid open, revealing an interior that looked as though it had been beaten, robbed, strangled, shot, and then beaten again. Furniture was snapped in two, glass and broken end tables scattered the floor, holes had been punched in the wall, the view screen on the far wall was shattered, and in the center of it all, there lay a single knife with a shattered blade.

            "Say It!"

            The sound was coming from somewhere to the right.

            "Gragh… NO!"

            There followed an unholy shriek accompanied with a sickening crunch.

            The Irken charged into the room, glass crunching under her feet. She whirled to the right in time to see Purple shoved on top of a table, his arm behind his back. It was being actively held there by his disgruntled co-ruler.

"Say it!" 

"Say… this."

Purple reached back with his left hand far enough to flip the switch on Red's hover belt, sending a surprised Red flying into the ceiling. Purple dove behind a broken couch, nursing his injured arm and grabbing a broken vase off a tipped side table. He raised it up in the air, either to fling it at Red or use it as a bludgeon. 

"STOP!"

Both Tallest froze, Red in a mid-air dive-bomb and Purple with half a vase stretched over his head. Red was the first to speak. He pointed to the newcomer.

 "You!" 

Red pointed at Purple.

"Attack!" 

"I can't..."

"No!" Purple exclaimed. "Him! Attack him!" He pointed an accusing finger at an airborne Red.

"I can't…"

"What are you waiting for? ATTACK!" Red waved his outstretched hand.

"I can't…"

"Don't you know to obey your Tallest?" Purple stood up, lowing his weapon.

"I…"

"Yeah." Red floated down. "I think she's a spy."

"What? I…"

"We'll have to teach her a lesson." Purple moved closer, looming over the distressed Irken negotiator. 

"I think someone's got a date with the torpedo tubes." Red moved to stand next to his friend, both of them towering over their subordinate, who was now shaking very badly, with huge grins on their faces.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

            Dib watched as the laser closed to within a good three inches of his groin. He had managed to grab a quarter from under his trench coat sleeve. It had taken a lot of work, his wrists were raw and bleeding, but he had done it. Now all he had to do was fling the quarter into the path of the laser beam at such an angle that it would divert the laser and cut one of his bonds. This was important because there was a much larger chance that the laser would divert from its course and shoot him in the eye. Dib took a deep breath, slid the quarter down his thumb, and flung it into the air.

            He watched in slow motion as the coin twisted through the air towards the laser. It arced upwards towards its goal, and at the climax of its accent, struck the beam head on. Dib had barley enough time to smile at success before the laser, unwavering, sliced the quarter in two. Dib glared town at the two smoking, even cut halves that had fallen beside his bed. Damn it. That always worked in the movies.

            Footsteps echoing down the hall caught Dibs attention as he twisted his head to see Zim and his Manslayer returning. GIR had evidently run off towards grander things. Well, so much for Plan A. Judging by the speed of the laser, he'd have another ten minutes to think up Plan B.

            As Zim approached the human, he smiled. This was going to be perfect.

            "Well, Dib, I just thought I'd drop by to witness your final defeat. Not much else on my calendar until that whole taking over the planet, thing, after all."

            "Zim, you're never going to take over the planet. You always do something to screw it up at the last minute. Wait and see." Zim held up his hand.

            "I'm afraid it is you who shall see this time, Dib. Nothing can stop Irken Superi-"

            Zim was cut off as the laser beam flickered and died.

            "Oh, for the love of…"

            Zim's spider legs sprung out from his Pak as he crawled on top of the giant laser cutter. He poked and prodded various areas before finally giving it a good swift kick and demanding the computer tell him what was wrong with it. 

            The computers voice was as slow and drawling as ever.

            "Um… The laser isn't working because… they shut it off."

            "What? What are you talking about? Who is this 'They' and how do they claim authority over ZIM?" Zim added an extra emphasis to his name.

            The computer was silent, evidently pondering which one of Zim's questions to answer first, when its reply was interrupted by a power failure.  


	6. Search and Seizure

A short Author's note:

The Easter Egg contest is here, in this very chapter!

If you can the first person to spot the reference to popular horror novel, I'll put your character in the story!

^_^ Won't that be fun?

Audience: *Groans*

Pah. Who asked you, anyway?

Just send me your characters name, gender and general mood. (Pessimistic, Optimistic, Cynical, etc.)

Even if you can't get the answer, send me your character and I'll put it in a big magic hat to be drawn from whenever I run out of ideas for my own characters. ^_^

So, without further ado, the show:

*Bows gracefully*

Chapter 6: Search and Seizure

            Dib could make out their eyes in the pitch-blackness of Zim's lab. A pair of empty green ones beside him and narrow red ones a little ways above him.

            "Perfect. Just perfect."

            Zim leapt down onto the floor next to Dib, retracting his mechanical legs.

            "Computer, bring base power back online."

            The darkness remained for a moment, then two, then three. Zim cried out his command a second time, a large tone of agitation in his voice.

            "COMPUTER! Bring base power back online."

            Nothing happened.

            Zim had to be the most incompetent person Dib had ever seen, and he was about to inform the Invader as to that fact when he heard something in some far off corner of the lab. From the sudden silence beside him, he guessed Zim had heard it to. Dib strained to hear what it was. It was till going… it sounded like… kind of like…

            "Clicking?" 

            Zim heard it coming. The steady click of metal striking metal, growing steadily louder and faster at it drew nearer and nearer until it seemed a crescendo. The clicking, clacking noise warped and shifted, until it was coming from seventeen different places at once. Zim knew what it was. He had heard it thousands of times before. On the training grounds of Devastis, across the corridors of the Massive, even in his own base as often as he cared to remember. Dib, too, recognized the sound, if not as quickly as Zim, and the same thought entered both their heads.

            Zim wasn't making it.

            Then, without warning, the sound stopped, and the lab was deathly silent.

            It was the last thing Dib remembered before he lost consciousness.

            ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

            Jarka sat in his command chair, a rare smile painted on his face. He could hear the history archives now. Captain Jarka, responsible for the recovery of Project Darkness Flame and the capture of the most dangerous threat ever to befall the Irken Empire. His mind played out the award ceremonies he'd attend and the promotions he'd receive, and how the Tallest would finally give him the recognition he deserved. His thoughts were interrupted by a tightbeam transmission from the surface. The bridge's view screen activated, revealing the ship's chief security officer. The bottom half of his face was hidden behind an eerily Professor Membrane like collar. Behind him, various soldiers and engineers could be seen dismantling hardware and loading it onto the matter transmitters for transport onboard the Majestic.

            "We've got most of the salvageable components isolated. They should be onboard within the next couple of hours. What did you want us to do with the rest of it?"

            "Activate the self-destruct. We can't leave anything lying around for the natives to grab and reverse engineer."

            "As you say, sir."

            The transmission cut and Jarka turned towards his head technician.

            "Check up with the Detention Block. I want to see how our friends are doing."

            --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

            Zim opened his eyes, his vision fuzzy and irregular. He blinked twice. He started to become aware of the pain in his back as a pulled his body upward until he sat fully upright. As his vision began to clear, he noticed a large white circle staring at him.

            "I was wondering when you were going to get up."

            Zim underwent a momentary panic. He knew that voice.

            "What have you done, you vile stink weed? Where am I?"

            "I was really hoping you'd be able to tell me that."

            Zim blinked furiously until his vision returned to its traditional clarity. He observed his surroundings for the first time. 8x6 room, benches built into the sides, open doorway protected by a shimmering blue force field. 

            "A detention cell."

            Dib scowled.

            "That's great Zim. Now could you tell me something that maybe I didn't figure out after being here for fifteen seconds?"

            "Ha! Liked I'd tell you anything that might aid you in escape."

            "Excuse me? You're trapped here too."

            "Yes, but this is an _Irken_ detention cell. My detainment is _obviously_ a mistake."

            "That's a pretty big mistake." 

            Zim grew quite as he searched for an answer. The prison guard walked in front of their cell, talking on a communicator. Dib tried to listen in without looking like he was trying to listen in.

            "Yeah, they're fine. No, no adverse side affects… at least not yet. 

Absolutely. 

The alien? Seems fine, but we don't have a lot to go on in that respect, of course. 

Not sure. He didn't take the EMP too well; Lid's got him in a stasis tube for damage assessment. Yeah.

I'll let him know. Okay, will do."

The guard lowered his hand away from the communicator. He stared at Zim for a few seconds before he turned to walk back to his post. He stopped when Zim screamed at him.

"GET BACK HERE! Do you know what you've done? Do you know who I am? Do you have any idea what the Tallest are going to do to you? How _dare_ you do this to ZIM! I **DEMAND** that you release me **IMMEDIATELY!**"

The guard shook his head. It was sad, in a way. He returned to his post, Zim's ranting fading into the background until it was a barely audible whisper.

"Guess you're not as famous as you thought, eh Zim?

"BE SILENT!" Zim seemed to be close to his wits end.

Dib, fearing the alien might snap and enter a bloodthirsty rage, remained quite. Zim started to pace the floor of his tiny cell.

            What was going on? How did the guard not recognize him? It was true that he was on a top-secret high priority assignment, but…

            The thought hit Zim like a train. They were rebels! A pitiful band of Irkens had risen up against the Tallest for some reason or another. The rebels had obviously found out about him and his secret mission! They hoped to strike a horrible blow against the Tallest by capturing their prize Invader and stopping Operation: Impending Doom II! Zim smiled to himself. It was a bold idea, but now that he was missing, the rebel scum would soon feel the full wrath of the Irken Empire as the Tallest themselves, along with the entire Irken Armada came looking for him. 

            The rebels didn't stand a chance.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lid slipped his hands into the remote gloves stationed in front of the stasis tube. Two robotic hands dropped down from the top of the tube and began to mimic his movements inside the greenish liquid. Lid bit his lower lip as he began to twist the gloves around. Inside the tube, the robotic hands had opened a small hole on the Pak and were inserting various probes and scanners into it in an attempt to assess the damage level. Next to the consol, a small screen, filled with continually scrolling Irken characters, displayed all the information they found. A small microphone extended from Lid's pack, resting just in front of his mouth for an audio transcript of the exam.

            "This is scary. Level 3 ocular implants, personal cloaking device, regenerative abilities, organic computer interface, venom sacks, Terchon grafted skin, psionic implants… legs and arms have been augmented almost beyond recognition. I'd say the techs on 409-B went a little overboard on this guy." 

            Lid pulled one of the probes out of the Manslayer's Pak, replacing it with a transistor pad. He inserted the pad into the tiny maintenance hole, and activated the charge in an attempt to spark the transistors back to life. He stared at the screen again, looking for results. He found that the probe still remaining inside the Pak had uncovered some new information.

            "Now, this is weird. It looks like there are two separate AI routines. The current one looks very similar to SIR coding… a little choppy here and there, but SIR coding for sure. This second one is a little deeper in… looks a lot more stable. Maybe if I…"

            Lid pushed the probe in deeper, trying to unearth more of the mystery program. As he pushed down into the node, he heard a sharp crack come from the Pak. He snapped his head up to look at the Manslayer. Several lights on the Pak were blinking, the light distorted eerily by the translucent green liquid. He looked back down at the view screen. 

            "…The Hell?"

            Irken characters were flying past the screen, almost in a blur. Lid could only make out one phrase as it raced by.

            "Program "Barlow" Initiated."

            Lid summoned a communicator from his Pak. Something was wrong, and Jarka had to know about it.

            From inside the tank, the Manslayers eyes sprang open. No longer the dead, empty pits Dib had seen on Earth, these eyes were different.

These eyes screamed for blood.


	7. When They Shoot You

Author's Note: Hey there, thanks for reading my story. I think I'm not focusing on Zim or Dib enough. If you think I should focus more on the stars of the show, or if you think it's fine the way it is, leave a review and let me know, because, after all, I can't fix it if I don't know it's broken. ^_^ **Chapter 7: ** **When they shoot you.**

Jarka sat quietly in his command chair. Within the hour Zim's base would be stripped of any usable material, scanned for information concerning Darkness Flame, and then the rest would be destroyed. Jarka Grinned. 

            With a small beep a view screen emerged from his Pak, coming to rest a few feet in front of his face. The pitch of the beeping informed him he had an incoming call from the lab on Deck C.

Lid.

"What's on your mind, Lid?"

            The view screen showed only static.

            "Lid?"

            Jarka pushed a button on the screen, and the communicator within his Pak tried to redial to Lid. The call was met with more static. The view screen returned swiftly into his Pak as Jarka turned towards his chief technician. 

            "Send an Engineer down to the Lab. Something's wrong with Lid's Pak."

            As the technician turned, Jarka added, almost as an afterthought.

            "Send a surgeon, too."

            ---------------------------------------------------------------

            Dib sat on the cold steel bench, his legs pulled up to his chest. Didn't the stupid thing ever stop talking? Dib didn't have a watch, but it must have been close to three hours since their imprisonment, and Zim had not shut up since.

            "Fools! Ha! Do they think they can fight the Irken Empire? Ha! That's the most pathetic thing I've ever heard! The Tallest will wipe the floor with them! Why, even without their most prized Invader! It won't be long now… the Armada will arrive, they'll pound this ship into space vapor! AHAHAHAHA!"

            The alien began one of his trademark evil laughs. It had reached peak crescendo when Dib interrupted.

            "But… if they blow this ship into space vapor, won't you be killed too?"

            The alien laugh stopped immediately.

            "Ah… yes… yes, I suppose I would."

            The two stared at each other for about seven minutes, before Zim began his revised rant.

            "They'll send in the Royal Guards to capture the ship! Flying and shooting and lasers and HORRIBLE SCREAMING DOOM!" 

            Zim laughed evilly.

            "THEN! Then, Dib-Human, they'll get to the detention cells and rescue yours truly. You'll be shot, of course. I hope you like being vaporized, human. Because that's exactly what you'll be!"

            Dib simply stared back at the alien, a look that rested somewhere between dismay and confusion resting on his face. 

            "You know… when they shoot you."

            Zim appeared to have finally run out of steam. It was a good thing, too. Dib's ears were starting to bleed.

            "With the laser."

            Dib sighed happily and sank back against the wall. Finally, a little peace and quiet. Now maybe he could think of an escape plan…

            "RIGHT IN YOUR BIG, STUPID HEAD!"

            "My Head's Not Big!"

            "IT IS HUGE! IT SWALLOWS GALAXIES WITH ITS… HUGENESS!" 

            "Shut Up!"

            "I'm sorry, Dib. I can't hear you with all the wind howling through your BIG EMPTY HEAD!"

            The guards posted on Detention block didn't care to break up the ensuing fistfight.

            --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

            Treaka walked down the hallway towards the lab, medical droid in tow. Every time something went wrong, everyone came whining to her. Even the captain. For the love of Irk, did they think she didn't have anything better to do? Treaka grinned at the thought. Actually, she didn't. The door to the lab slid open and Treaka stepped gingerly in.

            "Lid? Jarka says there's some-"

            Her words hung in the air, cold and ominous, cut short by the sight before her. The stasis tube on her left had been smashed open, shards of glass and sickening green goo littering the floor. Tables had been overturned, instruments were scattered across the floor. Amidst the broken glass and scattered scientific debris, were the bodies.

            Three of them.

            Treaka recognized two of them as the ships scientific team. They were sprawled across the floor like discarded toys. The third was Lid, propped against a large computer console, his eyes half closed. 

He wasn't moving. 

            Immediately the medical droid swooped into the room, spinning and beeping as it scanned the Paks of the three Irkens. Of the three, only one was reporting any life signs, and those were faint. The droid hovered to a stop above its patient; it's engine whirring as it began a deeper assessment of the patient's condition.

            The laboratory onboard the Majestic was small as labs go, about the size of a two-car garage on Earth. Anything larger would have merely been wasted space. Designed primarily to aid in the research of alien life and technology that the ship encountered on its mission, the lab was equipped with a single stasis tube and a two person scientific staff. Biological life forms would be placed in the stasis tube and studied for natural weaknesses and immunities. There wasn't any protocol for dealing with the aliens afterwards, mainly because none had ever survived the testing. 

            Alien weapons were tested in an isolated chamber off the main lab. They were tested for durability, destructive power, and general coolness. If they proved their worth, they would be sent to the ship's cargo hold to await reverse engineering in a real lab when the ship returned to Irk. Most were tossed overboard after testing, however. There were few species in the galaxy that could construct weapons that proved a match for Irken technology. 

            At least in the eyes of the Irkens.

As the emotional shock wore off, paranoia set in. Treaka spun around, her spider legs extending to form a quad laser. She backed slowly into the room; nervously glancing around her. If whatever they had been in that stasis cell had broken out, and it sure as Hell looked that way, then it was probably still close… maybe still in the room.

In the northeastern corner of the room (assuming the front of the ship was north, of course) there was a loud crash, followed by a small explosion. Treaka screamed and whirled around, firing her quad laser at the source of the noise. The fallen memory bank exploded in a thunderous boom, sending shrapnel flying everywhere. A large piece caught Treaka in her right temple, sending the engineer crashing into a heap on the floor; her spider legs fell limp underneath her as violet blood gushed from the wound. An audio transmission echoed from her Pak.

"Treaka? What's going on? Weapons fire was reported in the lab. Is everything alright?" 

The ensuing silence was deafening.

"Treaka?"

                        ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

            Twenty-Eight minutes later

Jarka stood beside the hospital bed, watching the doctor as worked. After several minutes of diligent examination, the doctor stood up, pulling off his purple examination gloves and disposing of them in a waste shoot.

                        "Well?"

            "Your friend should be alright. He lost a lot of blood but we've got him hooked up to the auto-doc, now. He'll be critical for a few days, of course, but that's normal for this kind of trauma."

            Jarka's face remained cold, his eyes narrow and piercing.

            "What about her?"

            "Lieutenant Treaka, Engineer. She's going to survive, more than likely, but that debris hit her pretty hard. They'll probably be some brain damage. Until she regains consciousness I couldn't tell you more."

            "The science team?"

            "Dead. Anemia." 

            Jarka's eyes widened with surprise as he turned to face the doctor.

            "That's impossible. I was with the response team. There wasn't a drop of blood in the room." He looked at the limp form of the engineer, a tone of sadness in his voice. 

"Except for hers."

"All I can tell you is that they died from loss of blood."

Jarka stared at the bodies in the medical bay. 

"I'm going back to the lab. Maybe they found something new by now."

The door swooshed open as Jarka neared it. He cast a solemn glance at his unconscious friend, held it for a few seconds, and then left the medical bay. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

At that same moment, a heated debate was taking place across the cafeteria. The events of the past hour were explained, exaggerated, examined, dismissed, re-examined, and exaggerated even more, all between mouthfuls of rationed energy bars and gulps of Slurge. Various theories had surfaced about what was happening in the lab. They varied from transponder malfunctions to escaped alien prisoners killing off crewmembers one by one. Still, the general concession seemed to be that, whatever happened in the lab was definitely under control. (Although a few of the more paranoid members of third shift fully believed that they were going to die) 

The debate stopped abruptly when the lights overhead cut out, leaving the cafeteria drenched in total darkness. The silence was broken as a ceiling grate clattered to the floor; it's sound echoing through the dead air. 

Outside, the darkness was interrupted by flashes of light shining through the cracks in the cafeteria door, accompanying the high pitched shriek of laser blasts, the metallic tap of spiders legs striking the cold metal floor, orders being shouted above the hectic frenzy, and the piercing screams of the dying. For seven seconds the chaos lasted. Then, with a final, muffled scream, the flashing light stopped, and the room once again fell silent.


	8. Isolate and Contain

Chapter 8: Isolate and Contain

Zim lay slouched in the corner, panting heavily. His face was covered in bruises, and the top of his head was still burning from the wretched humans backhanded use of water. How he hated water. The more Zim thought about how he hated water, the more he hated Earth, and the more he hated Earth, the more he hated Dib. The stupid human would pay.

Dib lay slouched in the corner, panting heavily. His face was covered in bruises, His glasses were broken, and his ribs still ached from that dumb alien and his dumb. grabby. spider. thingies. If Dib hadn't been able to wriggle his right hand free to use the squirt gun, that stupid alien would have crushed him. Dib hated that alien. No wonder the rebels wanted him dead. For the first time since his incarceration, Dib analyzed the situation, and a strange notion cropped into his head.

If the rebels are fighting against the Irken Empire, then maybe they're potential allies. After all, an enemy of my enemy is a friend of mine.

 Dib wasn't sure how the balance of power stood between the Empire and these Rebels, but he was pretty anxious for all the allies he could get.

 On the other hand, what if the Rebels are disposing of Zim so they can conquer Earth. I'd be trading off an evil I know for an evil I don't, and that's never a good idea.

Dib's mind raced, searching a number of possible scenarios.

Maybe the rebels are fighting because they're tired of conquering planets and enslaving the native inhabitants. Maybe the rebels are on my side. Maybe they're the good guys, fighting against a seemingly insurmountable Evil simply because it's the right thing to do.

 Dib stopped himself. Could Irkens feel like that? Could they even feel at all? Dib reflected that all he knew about Irkens came from studying Zim. For the first time, Dib toyed with the notion that maybe, just maybe, Zim wasn't the best representative of his race. Maybe Earth was to Irkens like France or Yugoslavia was to the United States all those centuries ago. Maybe the Irken leaders promoted invading Earth while the majority of their population strongly objected. 

_Strongly enough for armed rebellion? Were these Irkens. _

Dib stopped at the thought, taking a few moments to work through the shock of his own words.

_Fighting to save Earth?_

At the same time, a half-dozen armed Irkens stood outside the cafeteria doors, double-checking their equipment and system readouts while the commander went over the operational parameters.

"Power to the cafeteria went down about twelve minutes ago, and we haven't been able to contact anyone inside since. More then likely it's the work of EX-04, and if it is, he's probably still in there. We are to capture him. Understand? Riot Prods and Net-Guns only. No blaster fire. Got that, you stench-mongers?"

Most of the team looked up from their weapons to nod ascent. 

"Good. Let's get this party started."

The soldiers shuffled backwards, raising their weapons as they formed a semi-circle around the door. The commander signaled to one of the privates, who slid out of the formation and punched a large green button near the entrance. With an ominous hiss, the doors opened, the containment squad filed in, and the doors slid shut behind them.

For the last time.

"Captain! We've lost contact with the containment team!"

The technical officer's shouts brought Jarka swooping down over the control panel, eyes glaring over the various screens and menus. 

"Seal the area off. Now."

The officer scrambled to lockdown the cafeteria. Once the procedures were complete, the cafeteria would be effectively quarantined from the rest of the ship. The doors were automatically locked, bolted, and fused shut. The interior was hermetically sealed by six different disinfectants and a layer of progressively stronger containment shields sprung into existence around the interior wall. It took approximately 2.3 seconds to turn the room from a cafeteria into an impregnable fortress, secure from both the outside and within.

"Lockdown complete, sir."

"We can keep him in there until we get back to Irk. Assuming he hasn't already gotten out, of course. Better put the ship on yellow alert." Jarka sighed, slumping back into his chair.

"I'd better receive one hell of an advancement for this."

Jarka tilted his head up.

"Check in with the salvage team. Tell them I want to leave here as quickly as possible."

_As soon as we dock_ Jarka thought to himself. _I'm evacuating the Majestic and nobody is getting back on until the Tallest send someone to get that.  thing. out_.

"I can't, Sir."

Jarka looked up.

"What?"

"I can't contact the salvage team. They're not responding."

"I should have guessed."

------------------------------------------------------------------

Actually, at that moment, the commander-in-chief of the team sent to salvage Zim's base, was not dead, but merely _praying_ for a swift and merciful demise.

"GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF! GETITOFFOFMEEE!"

"Awww.. You're my beeeeeeest friend!"

The Security Chief slammed into another wall as he careened madly about the room, trying desperately to separate himself from the Invader's death droid intent on crushing his skull.

"STOP! GET OFF! GET OFF! GET OFF!"

GIR, of course, heard none of this, being far to overwhelmed with the joy of having such a wonderful new friend. Two security guards, who had been overseeing the salvage operation, came running to their boss's aid.

"Quick! Help! Get it Off!"

"And we'll eat ice-cream, and go for walks."

The two guards looked at each other, confused.

"And we'll go on horsey rides, and watch TV, and eat tacos."

GIR let out a loud squeal of glee at the thought of tacos, and proceeded to hug his new friend even harder.

------------------------------------------------------------------

                        "Hold on, Captain. I'm getting something."

            The technical officer tapped several buttons, selecting the tone and frequency best suited to intercept the jumbled transmission. The video feed was pure static, but audio could still be heard in between the crackle.

            "Condition Cri..cal. Cor..ed SIR has br.. security. Cannot ho..f long. Please send reinfor.ents. Repeat, reinfo... needed at co~"

             The transmission was cut short by a high-pitched scream from the other line, followed by what Jarka thought sounded suspiciously like insanely joyous giggles. The technician turned around as the screen changed to an Irken Military Insignia with the words "Transmission Interrupted" blinking beneath it. He stared at Jarka expectantly, waiting for an order. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------

            Larz shut the maintenance hatch as he finished his final adjustments on the power-generator. Most of the other engineers had gone to the surface to help with. a salvage mission or something. Typical. Run off to have some fun adventure while leaving poor old Larz behind to do their dirty work. As he began to run the diagnostic program, Larz heard the footsteps echoing down the hall behind him. The dim lighting of the generator room, the rumors he had heard about escaped prisoners killing crew on the upper levels, and the fact that he was completely alone, all combined to create a very un-Irken like moment of panic, during which Larz committed an act that would have gotten him laughed out of Irken Empire.  

He screamed.

He screamed a high-pitched, girly scream while throwing his hands over his head and diving to the floor. 

--------------------------------------------------------------

            The death of Crewman #178, otherwise known as "Engineer Larz", was not the first, nor would it be the last death onboard the Majestic, but it was significant in that it marked the beginning of the cascading, downward spiral of events that would later become referred to only as "The Incident."

            "Sir, I've lost contact with an engineer working on the power core. Terminal Lifesigns."

            Jarka leapt from his seat, landing smoothly next to the Technical Officer.

            "Why? What's going on?"

            "I don't know. No weapons fire. An accident?"

            "I hope. Is anyone else there?"

            The officer's hands grazed lightly over the touch pad, bringing up live footage from the security camera monitoring the power core. The gray-scale footage showed the back of an Irken standing next to the core, messing with various buttons and levers. Jarka leaned in closer to the screen.

            "What the Hell is."

            As he spoke, the room jolted into a pitch black and the computer's female voice droned on about a ship wide power failure. Jarka's narrow red eyes were visible next to the wide green of the chief technical officer's. 

            "Crapsticks."


End file.
